


teamwork

by ryoasukadidnothingwrong



Series: how relationships develop [3]
Category: Devilman (Anime & Manga)
Genre: (that blond bitch needed a hug), 70s/80s characterization, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Scene Alteration, ryo cries and akira hugs him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-17 22:40:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14199192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryoasukadidnothingwrong/pseuds/ryoasukadidnothingwrong
Summary: "finding demons is your job, but killing them is my job. why didn't you call me?"ryo almost dies, akira fixes everything.





	teamwork

**Author's Note:**

> hello again! so this is a scene alteration from the manga where [this literally happened.](https://www.mangareader.net/devilman/3/39) ryo needed a hug. that is all.

ryo stands there in the sunlight. he can’t remember anything from the night before, and he wishes it was vodka this time around. would be easier to explain the numbness in his limbs and the slight ache right behind his temples that occasionally flares up into incredible pain.

the sun warms him up and soothes his nerves, but he still cant help peeking at the shadows creeping in the corners of his vision. lurking in every alley he walks past. skulking in dumpsters and under cars. waiting.

“you got shafted by that demon!” akira booms, startling him and making his ears ring. he laughs and laughs and laughs, and ryo reels a little at the sight of akira’s new flashing teeth. he wipes his forehead and focuses on steadying himself. there’s that massive splitting headache again.

akira catches ryo fidgeting and quiets down. funny, usually when one of them starts laughing, the other inevitably succumbs, no matter how grave the mood beforehand. hell, ryo was rolling with him at his own father’s funeral. it was just how they handled things. or, it used to be.

“listen,” akira straightens back up and says casually but carefully, “it’s because you weren’t careful.”

ryo stares somewhere past akira’s shoulder, brows knitted. his hands clench and unclench, he pulls at his sleeves, rolling and unrolling the ends just a little.

“finding demons is your job,” akira tries slowly, quietly. he looks ryo right in his eyes, but they’re so distant and so preoccupied in that head of his that ryo doesn’t meet his gaze. “but killing them is  _ my _ job. why didn’t you call me?”

for a second akira thinks ryo didn’t hear him at all. he keeps fidgeting, chewing his lip, cracking his knuckles. “hey, ryo--” akira takes a step forward and ryo jumps, falling backward three steps. akira freezes and holds out his hands in a show of innocence. ryo looks at his feet, and akira’s new eyes can pick up how hard his blood pounds against the skin of his neck, his wrists, his chest. his new nose can smell the frenzy--sweat, breath, something else high and metallic. fear.

“you’re right…” ryo’s voice is so small, so quiet, so unlike ryo. akira barely hears it. he wonders if it was meant for him, or if ryo was talking to himself again.

akira clears his throat, lowering his hands, but never takes his eyes off of ryo. “you’ve been strange lately,” he says gently, “everything okay?”

ryo’s mind runs in circles a million miles a second. his hands shake and the shadows at the corners of his vision writhe and bubble. his stomach churns and he feels needles all the way down his spine, curling down his legs to his feet and up his neck to his skull. something in him desperately wants to flee, to run as fast as he fucking can away from akira and this side street, to somewhere or nowhere. what the fuck is he doing here?

“why didn’t i…” ryo’s voice wobbles and he looks more pallid than usual. he finally raises his head and looks at akira with wide glassy eyes, shaking violently.

“hey--” akira is with him in a second and his hands run up and down his arms to smooth the trembles out. ryo’s breath comes in gasps and his eyes threaten to spill over and his head hurts so fucking bad and akira’s voice tries to drown out the ringing in his ears that’s back again. hey ryo, hey ryo, hey babe, hey ryo. the sun’s suddenly too bright and the air is too fresh and sharp and it scratches the inside of his lungs as the pressure in his head builds behind his temples and he realizes he could’ve just fucking died. hey ryo, stay with me, ryo.

“i don’t know what i was thinking,” ryo mumbles, not entirely there, not entirely anywhere.

“hey,” akira smooths his hair and gently lifts his chin so their eyes meet, and cups his face. “hey, don’t… don’t hunt demons without me anymore, okay?” akira’s eyes ground him and his fingers brush those two pressure points in ryo’s head, and suddenly everything releases, falls away. his body tight as a whip relaxes all at once. his joints unlock and roll, his lungs work as his own again. he lets go of akira’s shirt that he didn’t even realize he was clinging to, his fingers slowly uncurling, sore and tired from such a death grip. his whole body is weak.

“i don’t know what i was…”

“okay?” akira’s hands move to his back and ryo lets himself be pulled into a hug. he lets akira carry his weight and take everything off his shoulders. he goes limp. he leans into akira, his head resting on his shoulder. he feels akira’s pulse against his cheek and his newfound warmth from this newfound body of his. 

weakly, ryo hugs him back. he buries his face in akira’s chest and cries, hard. ryo’s sobs wrack both of their bodies and completely void of all his energy, ryo clings to akira, saying his name through the tears, over and over, soft, like a prayer, like akira is the only thing holding him together. akira’s chin finds the top of his head as he strokes ryo’s back, rocking them a little back and forth, just enough to calm him down. he loses track of time like this, just focused on breathing with ryo. on hugging ryo until he has the strength to pull away on his own. on holding ryo together.

finally, ryo manages to pick himself up. “yeah... no. i won’t. promise.”


End file.
